Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Bmx Stuff Under 6 Bucks

FD'H Saint Sauvant, in pictures ...

Hiking animated surprises of the growth, street show ...
Facts On Winter in Saint Sauvant

Monday, March 15, 2010

Kate Playground Materbating

Fire, Iron & Forge Villars les Bois! The

To eat , talking, drinking,
around the products selected by ARTS-EARTH
To delve into the landscape black and white
Mouillac J Francis ...
And then our drummer sweat iron
blowing heart with The Allumettiers ,
we were well over 100 and we think!
& Mrs M Barillot Thanks for sharing this place.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Best Youth Beginner Tennis Racquets

ALLUMETTIERS in March! WINTER FACTS

Back home Created in Nevers for Zaccros of my Street , our artists repeated again in Villars Les Bois.
Sunday, March 14 at 16h
Discover these funny peddlers of fire, they turned to the great story!
This rehearsal is part of a festive day organized by the association Arts-Earth.
Details HERE and follow
Association Arts-Earth to discover the activity of the forge family craft Barillot, where 4 generations (from 1880 to 1990 ) Blacksmiths have succeeded. In the village of Villars in Bruneaud in the woods, that was forged at the time a key location for meetings between neighbors. And now, a place suspended in time ...
But on March 14, the space of one afternoon, she will still marvel at life! With the program: a gourmet meal, a photographic exhibition, a demonstration of how to "beat swords" and the presentation THE ALLUMETTIERS!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Emphysema Latest Research

CRISIS OF SEA Christophe Tostain

's Statement


Christophe Tostain in Crises sea takes us on a chord distance that develops between a mother and her son, by dint of disillusionment, to tiny life force that arises here by weakness and pride will fall for anything ... ...

not fall ....

Francis Xavier Malingre - 2009

Preview

A slight breeze carries the words through the open window,
Fly over the white city,
caress the backs of dunes
shoot every grain of sand to the water ,
Kiss wrinkled sea of wavelets nascent
dying soon.
time mobilizing. This could be
Sunday with its endless hours.

Christophe Tostain Crises Sea - 2009









Small Blood Clots In Urine

Writing Workshops at the College of Gustave Flaubert Bridge L'Evèque (14) Bruno Allain



Three sessions of writing workshop. An author, Bruno Allain. Sixteen students in 5th, 4th and 3rd. Isis Louviot an actress. A teacher Emmanuel Hartvick.
The starting point of writing: "Those who leave / those who remain."
separation? Maybe ...
A photo put on a table, hung on the wall or even forgotten in a drawer? Why not ...
His own image reflected by a mirror? Surprising ...



Session 1

Remember separation. The tell? Simply make a description of where it took place, focusing on the emotions ...


is a gray building. The corridors are empty. I find myself alone with the silence. Silent burial. I have in me the longing to leave Sciotot. The sheets were removed. The cupboards were emptied, the trash also. The bulb sizzles. I say a final goodbye to this room so vast and empty, but that seemed so small and full when it was installed. I look at the ground. The tiles suggests that the buildings were built around 1990. It is a four bedroom, four beds, four armoires, four stools and one table but one bin. The walls are gray. In the past, they had to be white. The radiators have also been extinguished. I close the curtains torn. I press the switch and then the room gets dark. The bus is waiting for me, I walk through the dark corridors with windows supposed to be transparent but gray scum. I descend the stairs and reaches the dilapidated first floor. I go out in the open air.
Anthony B.


That's it, we got to the airport I and several members of my family. Around 11 am, I think. As usual, the world constantly running from right to left, left to right. They all know exactly where they go. We are going to get our luggage. The treadmill still will not start, we talk together a vacation that we just passed. I observe people around me. They all have different reactions. Phone calls to say they have arrived, others are impatient to see their bag with the contents in good condition. Some even do nothing, they are just waiting for their luggage without any reaction, they do not move. Like good people watching, I find it quite amusing. After the usual checks of police and other security checkpoints, it is time to separate. We're still in one of the halls of the airport, hot. Sadness overwhelms me, I do not know why. Yet I know I'll see them again. Everything went so fast ... Plus I'm tired of holidays through travel. In fact, I think that's just it, the holidays: to spend time with my family, laugh and laugh more, enjoy everything. LIVE! But everything has an end ...
Romain C.



I can not remember the date. Neither the day nor the month, or season. The year? In calculating I can find. That was in 2002.
These details have deserted my memory. I remember perfectly, however the place. A place that, since I did everything to avoid. A simple field enclosed by an old green gate. I climb over to caress the two Percheron horses that graze unconcerned. The wind blows and bends its implacable force the branches of trees. They hide the high road is meant more than it sees. Behind me, on the other side of the old paved road, throne an old dilapidated building that seems to be there since time immemorial. Further, one can see the green mass and indiscriminate forest. Silence reigned over this place that we trouble maker with our children's laughter.
A simple place as one finds everywhere in the country. But a place full of memories ... Top
but also the worst. This is where it all began and where it all ended.
Layla D.


I'm in a hurry. Pressed without being pressed. Pressed despite the fear. The fear of leaving my parents. The fear of being unpopular. I'm
troubled by this place. My father talks to everyone and me, nothing. Transparent. Invisible. I see lots of smiles and me, nothing. Neutral. No expression.
I fixed everybody, trembling, clutching my bag, sticking my father ... My parents are gone, I feel no sense. No feeling or hatred, or anger. Nothing like that. Vacuum.
E. Baron



Emotions
heart beat sensation
hesitation
misfortune
happiness
gay
moving
tears
happy smile
shame
temptation
happy
unfortunate
fear
attraction
yes
not
emotional attachment
heart beat
different feeling joy
sadness loneliness
remember from back
want
empty
filled
emotions
heart beat sensation
Melanie D.



I feel oppressed, as caught in a vise. Incapable, I am unable to tell him what I feel.
I want to scream but how to scream inside you, with this knot in my stomach that continues to grow and will eventually explode! I am both the snake and misshapen after a meal, which hushed the prey moves inexorably towards the end.
Alexandra D.

I walk. I stop. I open my mouth. My words resonate. But I stutter. I tremble. My heart drummed. Epinephrine flows in my veins. Then suddenly. Everything stops. Starting with the feet. I feel every part of my body become brittle. Fragile like a house of cards. Collapses at the slightest breath. The minutes pass then. After 20 minutes exactly. I fainted.
Amelie G.


Session 2

describe a photograph. Take time to watch it. Linger on a face, on a technicality. Remember the moment immortalized.


A dark-skinned face. Black hair and thin. A finely drawn mouth, half ajar, revealing the pearly whiteness of her teeth. Chocolate eyes dilated. Eyelids that appear to open and close smoothly. Plucked eyebrows slightly. An air of mystery ...
I found this photo lost, left unattended in an old album, stored in a closet covered with dust, forgotten in time. In this picture, an old childhood friend. He sat there on the sofa near the fireplace. Smiling, waiting for the camera flash comes out. When I received it by mail, all I row away carefully in a photo album, brand new ... Only 6 years later I tracked him.
Amelie G.


He has brown hair, dark brown, locks him up coming down the front. Her eyes are brown. One can see in his eyes the desire to fight. He has a nose ... A normal nose. In the photo, he smiles. You can see his very white teeth. No wrinkles on her face. He radiates happiness and pleasure.
Amelia R.


A lock of brown hair adorned with a black ribbon hides one of his eyes brown-green circled pencil. His eyelashes are redrawn in mascara. One of his cheeks pink is hidden in shadow. His nose is dotted with freckles. Her mouth is pinched in a cheerful facial expression that never leaves. The childish look on his face expresses joy of living.
Layla D.

Brown hair like wood, blue eyes peaceful.
We see only the head and neck, nothing else.
A normal nose, neither too big nor too small. In short, a nice nose.
This photo, I received via SMS. She sent it because she wanted to.
She stayed there, in my laptop and I'll keep it.
Clement L.

His face lights up ... Her eyes shine
... The most beautiful smile that exists. The
a happy person.
This smile is so natural and so simple that when my eyes landed on him, he can not become detached.
Les Saintes Maries de la Mer in the Camargue. We are on the roof of the church. A sunny afternoon. The sky is blue, as emptied of all its clouds ...
This photo is placed next to my bed. I love to watch. It reminds me of the day Vacation.
I still remember when the photo was taken: my little brother tried to escape from my father's lap to go play ...
Aude L.



Session 3

Gazing into a mirror. Being confronted with its image. Want to talk to him? The challenge or otherwise do not support ...

When I see myself in the mirror, I want to smack me, by the hundreds. In the morning, when I do my hair and I can not, I get angry. Sometimes I cry!
When I see my reflection in a window in the street, I tell myself: "What are you doing here? "
Clement L.


That morning as every morning, I am a silhouette that looks like two drops of water came towards me. She argues the same pace as me. Face to face, staring at me, she stares at me. She made the same gestures as me with disarming precision. I have so many questions for this thing without life.
Suddenly, a light pops up! At that moment, I realize that the mysterious figure is none other than my reflection in the mirror. Amelia G.


a minute. Choose a minute of his life and tell. A minute, not one more ...


You just put your pajamas, you put yourself in your bed under your blankets. Very quickly you get up to open your skylight, because you're too hot. You lie down on your bed and you wait until your eyes close, you fall asleep.
But the only problem is that you can not win! You're beautiful you turn in all directions, you do not succeed! You decide then
turn on the light and put a little music. Finally, you say that music is too "rough" for you to fall asleep. You give up and you take a book on your desk. As and when you read, you end up having the eyes open, little by little ...
You do not fight, you'll rest your book, you turn out the light, and you end up finally fall asleep ...
Harmony Mr.